couldn’t see what they showed, she watched his eyes bounce furiously around from screen to screen.
“Josephine Byrne,” Josie said by way of an answer.
The guard clacked away at a keyboard hidden beneath the desk. Within a few seconds, a printer whirred into action. His eyes still fixed on the security monitors, he leaned back and whipped a preprinted ID badge out of the print tray, affixed an alligator clip, and handed it to Josie.
“Wear the badge at all times. Lieutenant Maynes will escort you back,” he said.
The armed guard nodded. “This way.”
The guard led Josie through a maze of corridors. He walked quickly, apparently uninterested in whether or not Josie managed to keep up. Josie felt like they’d walked in circles before they stopped abruptly at a glass security door. The guard placed his hand flat against a pad on the wall, and after a few seconds, a loud beep sounded from the door and it slid open.
A handprint security door in a hospital? That didn’t seem right.
The guard, however, didn’t enter through the open security door. Instead, he stood aside and flanked the doorway. She glanced at him but got nothing. He stared straight ahead of him at the wall.
“Am I supposed to go in?” she asked.
Silence.
Really? Not even a nod of his head? Sheesh, what
Josie took the hint and passed through the door. She found herself in a stark white room shaped like a giant semicircle, with eight or nine of the same glass security doors facing inward at her. No desk. No doctors. Just doors. She turned back to the guard, but the door immediately slid closed. Josie could see the guard outside, at attention. Not looking at her.
“Miss Byrne?” a voice said. Josie spun around and saw a woman in a white doctor’s jacket smiling at her broadly. She was young, maybe thirty, with a short, dark bob and narrow brown eyes that seemed to disappear beneath the weight of her smile.
“Yes.”
“I’m Dr. Cho,” she said, her voice light and airy, like the way grown-ups speak to toddlers. “I’ve been working with your mom for the last few months.”
“Oh.”
“She’s been remembering a little bit more as of late, so I’m glad you’ve decided to come back. Maybe it will help her reconnect to her old life.”
Josie smiled grimly. Dr. Cho’s words held more truth than she knew.
“Let’s see how your mom is feeling today, shall we?” Dr. Cho said. She placed her hand lightly on Josie’s back and guided her toward the far side of the room. Like with the entrance, each individual door had a scanner pad in front, and as Dr. Cho approached one, she placed her hand flat against the pad. As before, a loud beep preceded the door sliding open, and Dr. Cho’s smile deepened as she led Josie into the room.
It was a cross between a hospital room and a prison cell, the best Josie could figure. A bed with wrist and ankle restraints clearly visible stood on one side. There was a desk and a chair on the opposite side, and a small alcove in the back with toilet and sink. There were no windows, only overhead lights reflecting off the stark white and metallic surfaces in the room.
And it was empty.
“Dr. Byrne?” Dr. Cho said in her jingly voice. “Dr. Byrne, I’ve brought someone to see you.”
No response.
Dr. Cho stepped into the alcove and crouched down. Josie could hear whispering. Then she stood up and held out her hand. From the space in the back of the alcove hidden by the wall, Josie saw a pale, shaky hand in Dr. Cho’s.
Josie’s mom shuffled into the room, head down, with lank, dirty hair obscuring any traces of her face. She didn’t look up. She didn’t ask any questions. Just shuffled her slipper-clad feet forward without lifting them off the floor. She wore a light blue hospital gown that was at least two sizes too big. It hung off one shoulder, exposing the bony joint and pale white skin. Sickly pale. Her skin looked as if it hadn’t seen the sun in years.
Josie had to fight to keep her face from reflecting the horror she felt. Her mom looked completely broken. Josie wanted to grab her and make a run for it, but she was helpless in that guard-infested hospital. And the thought that she’d have to leave her mom there made her want to cry.
Dr. Cho guided Josie’s mom to the bed. She stood in front of it but didn’t sit down until the doctor placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle nudge. Then she tentatively lowered herself and sat forward on the edge of the mattress, her toes just touching the floor. As she sat there, Josie could see how thin she was. Her knobby knees looked too large for her legs, and her mom’s athletic frame, which had always been fit and healthy from her morning runs, now appeared frail and fragile, as if her bones would snap in half if Josie hugged her too hard.
Even worse, Josie caught sight of thick, purple bruises encircling her mom’s wrists and ankles, and up and down her arms and legs, the remnants of deep cuts. Like long, harsh claw marks.
Her stomach lurched. Josie knew those marks only too well.
“Dr. Byrne likes to cut herself,” Dr. Cho said. She watched Josie’s face keenly. “So we have to keep her restrained. For her own good. Isn’t that right, Dr. Byrne?”
Josie’s mom gave an almost indiscernible nod but said nothing.
“I see,” Josie said. Suddenly, Dr. Cho’s sunny smile seemed ominous. Her mom wasn’t cutting herself. Josie would recognize those marks anywhere. They were exactly the same as the ones on Josie’s arms: red, jagged, and sliced deep into her flesh. They were from a Nox attack. How could she have gotten them in here, and why was Dr. Cho lying about it?
“Your daughter’s here to see you,” Dr. Cho said. “Don’t you want to say hello to your daughter?”
“That,” her mom said slowly, without looking at Josie, “isn’t my daughter.”
Her voice was parched and raspy, but Josie recognized it right away. The inflection, the intonation.
“Mom?”
Her mom flinched. Visibly. Slowly she raised her head and the dirty locks of hair fell away from her face, exposing the deep blue eyes Josie knew so well. There was fear in those eyes, and confusion. “Josie?”
Josie threw her arms around her mom’s neck. “It’s me,” she said in a barely audible whisper. Her mom wouldn’t know what was going on, and Josie needed her to maintain the illusion as long as possible.
“Excellent!” Dr. Cho cooed. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit.” She turned toward the door. “But not too long. We don’t want to overdo things.” Her megawatt smile breezed out of the room, and the door slid shut behind her.
“Josie?” her mom breathed immediately. Her eyes darted around Josie’s face. “How? Where?”
Josie hugged her mom again, tighter this time. Emotion clogged her voice and she fought to keep back the sob threatening to erupt from deep within her. This was her mom. Finally.
“I’ve seen you,” she said, her voice tight with emotion. “In my dreams. You’d be at home doing your homework just like nothing had happened.”
The nightmare Dr. Byrne had. At exactly 3:59. Dear God, they were sharing visions of each other’s lives, just like Josie did with Jo. That must have been even worse for her mom than being tortured by the Nox.
“Mom, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Josie. The dreams I’ve had . . .”
She wanted to tell her mom everything—the mirror, the flash, her and Jo—but something stopped her. If they had her mom locked away, it was for a reason. They had to be careful. “Call me Josephine,” she whispered into her mom’s ear. “They might be listening.” Then Josie cleared her throat and spoke in a clear, loud voice. “I’ve missed you, Mom.”
“I’ve . . .” Her mom paused, then Josie felt her arms encircle her back. “I’ve missed you too. Josephine,” she added.
Thank God. Whatever they’d done to her, Josie’s mom still had her wits about her. Josie gave her mom a squeeze, then sat back down. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you sooner,” she said. “I’ve been really busy. School. Daddy. You know.” She spoke deliberately, in a slightly stilted manner and hoped her mom picked up on the fact that they were, in all likelihood, being watched.
“Of course.” Her mom nodded. “I understand.”
